His face alone had become incredibly distorted, and coupled with his insomnia and loss of appetite for many days, his sunken features looked even more ferocious.
Her gaze then fell on Lin Songyan's face.
What does it matter if she's successful? Qiao Zhizhi married into the Lin family, and the third young master of the Lin family is infertile. She is destined to be childless for the rest of her life, and who knows what will happen to her when she gets old.
Qiao Zhizhi appeared calm and collected on the surface, but who knows how much she cared and suffered inside? Perhaps she was tossing and turning all night, unable to get a full night's sleep, just like Qiao Zhizhi.
Thinking of this situation, Wu Qingjin felt a surge of relief and finally found some comfort.
Lin Songyan wrote the winning mark on a slip of paper. There were more than a hundred people watching, but only one person could win; the other slips of paper were blank.
Then everyone lined up to receive a slip of paper, and only after they had all received theirs did they ask to open the slips.
When the draw was about to begin, everyone opened their slips of paper, and a chorus of sighs of regret erupted as they shook their heads, realizing they hadn't won.
A boy, about sixteen years old, ran up holding a piece of paper and shouted, "I won! I got a painting by Master Qiao!"
The child was sturdy-looking and dressed simply with several patches, clearly from a poor background. Everyone was relieved that he could improve his family's life by receiving this painting.
A young man from a wealthy family stopped the boy and offered two thousand taels of silver to buy the painting from him.
Both sides got what they wanted, and everyone was happy.
The boy, clutching the silver notes, ran toward his mother, who was selling vegetables at a street corner.
Qiao Zhizhi smiled knowingly as she watched this scene; she hoped the painting would end up in the hands of someone who needed it.
But she can't give away paintings normally, and even if she throws them away, she can't diminish their value, just like selling something.
"I can't have children in this life, so I can only find solace in these paintings. But can they really fill the emptiness and sense of loss in my heart?"
"Horse manure is only shiny on the surface."
Now that Wu Qingjin had come out and run into Qiao Zhizhi, he couldn't help but make a few sarcastic remarks.
Otherwise, wouldn't all the inhuman torture she endured have been for nothing?
She also wanted to sting Qiao Zhizhi, even reminding her that some things can never be changed, lest she become complacent amidst her daily adulation and forget how much regret she would have in her life.
Qiao Zhizhi looked over in the direction of the sound.
Although she knew Wu Qingjin was having a hard time, she couldn't help but be surprised to see her like this.
The Wu Qingjin before them seemed to have had her life force drained away bit by bit. Her flesh and blood had shrunk and withered, leaving only a skin covering her bones. Her vitality had vanished, making her stand out from the normal people on the street. People passing by her wheelchair would walk around her in fright, as if they had seen some kind of monster.
She smiled. It seemed that Wu Qingjin hadn't given up on paying attention to her even though he had been staying at home for the past year.
"Miss Wu actually knows I'm feeling empty. Could it be that I have tapeworms in my stomach?"
"Otherwise what? You're destined to have no children in this life. Do you really think you're as peaceful and happy as you appear on the surface? Anyone can act. I'm telling you, Qiao Zhizhi, you're clearly suffering inside. Don't pretend."
Qiao Zhizhi sighed inwardly. Ever since she married Lin Songyan, those who were jealous of her had always used this incident to their advantage, as if it were a sore spot that they wanted to relentlessly rub salt into.
"Unfortunately," she said calmly, "I'm already more than a month pregnant, I'm sorry to disappoint you."
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